


Wait For A Word

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Series: Wait For A Word AU [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin didn't realize that fucking a novelist came with required reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For A Word

"You mean you've been bullshitting this whole time?" Sehun's body hunches across the width of the table in violent surprise, his voice lowering to a hiss. "You haven't read _anything_ he's written?"

They're sitting in the apartment Jongin shares with Lu Han, clock ticking quietly in the kitchen. The window's open, the stagnant, heavy summer air circulating lazily as a breeze wafts in. It smells like it's going to rain. Sehun notes the bookshelves lining the walls and chuckles to himself.

Jongin shrugs. "Do the dedication pages count?"

"How does somebody _fuck a novelist_ and manage to avoid reading even _one_ of his books? Hasn't he, you know, _noticed_ that you've never got a book in your hand?"

"I carry one around with my thumb as a bookmark just so he doesn't ask." Jongin beams at his clever deception. "He never really gets a chance to ask, though, since either he's writing or we're fucking."

"You'd better be careful. Someday he's going to ask a question you can't answer."

"He's not the type to talk with his mouth full." Jongin winks. "I think he'll be fine."

 

Sharing might be an exaggeration. Jongin moved in two weeks ago, unceremoniously dumping a bag of toiletries in the bathroom and announcing to Lu Han's shocked face that, "I sleep here every night any way." He knows Lu Han has his routines: teaches classes at the university all morning, occasional lunch dates with his editor, then he's free to write in the afternoon. Sometimes he writes at home, sometimes at the library or back in his office they keep for him at the university. "I won't be underfoot. I promise. Nothing's going to change."

Lu Han's soaking wet when he comes in. "It's raining," he says softly, as if he has to explain himself. Jongin can hear the rain slapping on the balcony outside and the apartment's cooler than it was earlier. He watches Lu Han hang up his briefcase and come inside the living room, eyes trained on his slow, deliberate movements.

"Long day?"

"Not especially." Lu Han smiles tiredly. It's the same thing he says every day, even if he's been put through the metaphorical wringer by his students and his editor. "I had a nice meeting with Junmyeon. They're moving forward with the three book deal."

"That's great." Jongin eyes the puddling water at Lu Han's feet. Heavy with rain, his shirt clings to his body in places that are making Jongin's pants tighten. He clears his throat and looks away.

"Jongin?"

"Hm?"

"I asked if you'd had time to read that thing I left for you?" Lu Han smiles. "Last week. You remember? You said you were nearly done with it."

Jongin's torn between anger and amusement as he internally curses Sehun for jinxing him and notes to call on him next time he may need a psychic, because _fuck,_ man, the timing could not be worse.

"Yeah." He brings his thumb to his mouth and bites it, a nervous habit he's had since he was a child that he just can't seem to shake. "Hey, you're going to get sick if you don't get out of those wet clothes."

Lu Han chuckles. "Trying to get me naked?"

"Do I need to try now?" Jongin shoots back. For all his nervous bravado, Jongin knows how this game is played, knows why he's really there. It's unlikely that Lu Han, bestselling novelist, youngest tenured university professor in a decade _actually_ gives a fuck about what Kim Jongin, dance instructor for that tiny studio on the corner of 4th, thinks about his writing.

They met on that corner, Lu Han standing at the window of his studio, peering in so intently that Jongin thought he might be lost.

 _"No, not lost, just looking."_  


_"Something I can help you with?"  
_

_"Yeah. Yeah. I think you can. My name's Lu Han."_

Lu Han'd fumbled, making up excuses for such blatant staring until Jongin had taken pity on him and asked him to get coffee. They'd spent the whole time just staring at each other from across the table, and then on the walk back to the studio, Jongin had leaned in and kissed Lu Han on the corner of the mouth, just to test the waters, and Lu Han had smiled up at him and said, _"You should come by later."_

He's looking at him that same way now, brown eyes soft and honest, mouth pulled back in a small smile. His lips are blue now, though, teeth chattering from the cold.

"You're just going to stand there?"

Lu Han laughs his soft musical laugh and acquiesces. "Fine. You win." He ducks inside the bathroom, the soft thwacks of wet fabric following. "Don't think I'm going to let you off that easily, though, Jongin. I wrote it for you. I really want to know."

Jongin closes his eyes and gulps against the rising panic in his chest.

When he pokes his head around the door to see what's taking him so long, he's surprised to see Lu Han, completely naked and sitting on the edge of the sink, legs swinging playfully. His heels hit the cabinet doors in a steady rhythm—clunk, clunk, clunk—and he grins stupidly when Jongin finally wrenches his eyes from the sight of his fully erect cock saluting him from Lu Han's lap.

" _Jesus._ " His body takes a step forward before he knows what he's doing, hands warm on Lu Han's cold, goose-pimpled skin. "What are you—"

"We can talk later," Lu Han says meaningfully, voice husky, his normally lilting tenor rasping down in Jongin's octave. Jongin leans in and plants a tentative kiss on Lu Han's chin and then it's like he doesn't know what's come over him when he seizes Lu Han by the thighs and lifts him off the counter. Lu Han responds in kind, wraps his arms around Jongin's neck, helps navigate their way to the bedroom between anxious kisses that seem needier than usual to Jongin, who just wants to fuck him until the mental image of his wet clothes stops making him hard, until Lu Han stops asking him about things he hasn't read and probably won't ever read.

"The—condoms," Lu Han pants, but Jongin's one step ahead of him, already peeling open the foil package. Lu Han offers his fingers to pinch the tip as Jongin rolls it down the rest of the way. He kisses Lu Han again, slowly this time, trying to steady him, but Lu Han's insatiable, nudges Jongin back against the bed and climbs over him.

Lu Han's hair is still soaking wet, drips water in Jongin's face as he bends over and eases a lubricated hand between his legs, pulls the cheek aside and slowly pushes a fingertip inside, then a little more persistent, pushing to the knuckle, cajoling achy whines from deep within Jongin's chest when he introduces the second. Jongin fucks himself on Lu Han's hand for a few thrusts and Lu Han lets him open himself up at his own speed until he can't wait any longer, Jongin whimpering at the sudden loss before he's full again.

Jongin always feels like he's being split in half at the outset of these sessions, hissing through clenched teeth at the sting and just how much of Lu Han there seems to be inside him. He feels a little dizzy, blood pooling south in his groin, cock so beyond hard that it's all a little much. Lu Han kisses the patch of skin behind his knee, the one that always makes him squirm because it _tickles_. The dull pain radiating through his lower half mingles with the toe-curling waves of _fuck that feels good don't stop_ , crying into the back of his hand until Lu Han's pushing back inside him, hips rolling.

Jongin comes against their stomachs, completely untouched. Lu Han kisses him sloppily, tongue imprecise and delirious as it searches for Jongin's mouth, something to anchor itself to. Jongin stifles his overstimulated whispering in Lu Han's mouth because for those few crests of adrenaline and endorphins that ripple through his body he feels like his entire body is on fucking fire, strained at the seams, barely holding together and _definitely going to rip apart at any moment Jesus I can't--_ until he's brought back down to Earth with a sharp thrust from Lu Han that hits _something_ inside of him that wasn't ready to be touched. He grits his teeth against the inside of his cheek, worries he's drawn blood until the fizzing in his hands stops and he lets go of the sheets to tangle his arms around Lu Han's neck and push back against the pressure.

Lu Han doesn't talk much until he's ready to come. That's how Jongin always knows when to cant his hips up off the bed, letting him drive deeper, harder.

_"Fuck, I'm going to—"_

Jongin knows, feels it; licks kisses against Lu Han's jaw as he moans and digs his fingernails into the hard outcropping of Jongin's hips. He whispers quietly into Lu Han's ear, thumbs curled against his cheeks, jaw cradled between his hands.

 

After they've cleaned up and slumped against each other on the sheets, Lu Han's hair still leaving damp patches everywhere, Jongin's nearly asleep when Lu Han's voice breaks the stillness between them.

"You didn't read it."

It's still raining outside, droplets hammering against the windowpane. Jongin's trapped and he knows it. He comes clean.

"No."

"Have you read any of it?" Lu Han's voice gets even softer, if that's possible.

"No." Jongin's voice breaks a little.

"I figured." The silence is physically painful to Jongin, blood pounding in his head. He's too scared to move, to roll over and look at Lu Han's face, to slip his fingers into Lu Han's palm and hold tight.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's just—" Lu Han sits up, sheets pooling around him. "I guess when we started this, we both had an unspoken… agreement? I guess? That this wasn't serious. But then you moved in, and I thought—I don't know." He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs at it a little in frustration. "I'm sorry, I guess I expected too much."

Jongin feels like he's been kicked in the stomach.

Lu Han turns to him and smiles. "It's okay. You don't have to read any of it. I just thought you might like to. Seems kind of weird to come home with a novelist and not even be the least bit curious about what I do all day."

"I'm not—much of a reader," Jongin mumbles lamely. "I moved in because I like _you_."

"The books are part of me," Lu Han says gently. His hand finds Jongin's. "It's okay, though. Maybe you're not interested in this being a long-term thing, or maybe you are, but either way, I'll stop bugging you about it." He chuckles. "You know, you're a shitty liar. I did appreciate having my bones jumped every time I asked about it, though."

Jongin squeezes his hand. There are a lot of things he wants to say right now and as usual he's fumbling in the dark, can barely eke out a sentence: "This is serious, then."

"This?"

"Us."

Lu Han bursts out laughing. "You're an _idiot_. That's what I just asked you. I'd—I'd like that, but. I guess it's up to you."

Jongin nods.

"What does that mean?"

It means he'll read the books. Or _try to_ , he thinks, rolling up onto an elbow. "It means… you've written a lot of things. Where should I start?"

"You want me to read it to you?" Lu Han offers finally. Jongin hasn't been read to since he was a child but agrees readily, settles himself against Lu Han's side, eyes drifting shut as Lu Han turns to a page and begins reading in that slow, dulcet way he speaks when he's being honest. Jongin likes it, he thinks, although he can't remember what he's heard after Lu Han's moved on to the next sentence because sleep is heavy in his bones, weighing him down until finally he lets go.

But still. It's a start.

**Author's Note:**

> remixed by thesockmonster@lj [here!](http://thesockmonster.livejournal.com/32318.html) :')


End file.
